Harry Potter and the Grimoire of Dabria
by Tonkinese Cat
Summary: Best viewed for reading at 1/2 page width. Harry Potter has never had such a hectic time as Head Auror as he has had in the last couple of months. Random outbreaks of muggle violence with seemingly no cause makes him suspicious of magical activity, and his investigative digging opens up a whole branch of magic he had no idea even existed.
1. The Whispering Wand

**HARRY POTTER AND THE GRIMOIRE OF DABRIA**

By

TONKINESE CAT

 **"Before setting out for revenge, first dig two graves: one for your enemy and one for yourself"**

 **Confucius**

 **A/N: A huge thanks to my good friend and editor Paige the Lunar Pilgrim for looking over and fixing all sorts of things in these first two chapters.**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 **THE WHISPERING WAND**

In his ten years as Head Auror, Harry Potter had never felt more strained. For the longest time, there was peace. Petty thievery, apparition without license and lack of common sense around Muggles had become the worst of his problems; so much so, that a lot of people joked that Harry had done his job so well, he'd run out of work.

So many free resources did the Auror Department have, that they felt they could use their skills in the Muggle world and help quell Muggle crime as best they could; especially with the trend of rising crime all over Britain in the past few months.

It seemed to all start with random outbreaks of riots among the Muggles. After three such riots in three weeks, over three different counties and with no apparent motive, Harry was beginning to suspect there was something _odd_ about these events: in particular, the way that the Muggles were seemingly enraged over nothing and always confused and bewildered afterwards. Something _magical_ , perhaps?

However, with no solid leads as of yet, Harry had resigned himself to simply reacting to these events, without being able to pre-empt them in any way. Regardless of the stresses of the office, Harry was in a particularly excited mood, because that morning he had sent James and Albus off to school – their third and first year, respectively. Harry was expecting news of Albus' sorting at any moment, as well as that of he and Ginny's niece, Rose.

Ginny was sitting near the fireplace on their deep red sofa, legs tucked up under her, reading _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ to Lily. The girl was the image of her mother, with flaming, long red hair and freckles. Lily donned her Snitch-design pyjamas – hand-knitted by Molly Weasley – and giggled along to the story of _Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump._

Of course, Ginny was certain that Albus and Rose would both be sorted into Gryffindor. Nearly everyone in her family had been, including: Bill and Fleur's children – Victoire, Dominique and Louis; George and Angelina's children – Fred, Roxanne and Percy; and Audrey's first daughter, Molly. The lone exception, however, had been Percy and Audrey's second daughter, Lucy: incredibly bright and viciously intelligent, she had been sorted into Ravenclaw.

The other Weasley children teased Lucy at times, Harry had noticed, because she was the odd one out; but Lucy had taken it all in stride, apparently. She seemed to be a very fulfilled, well-liked and high-scoring student, as far as Harry had heard.

Nevertheless, Ginny had put down Lucy's sorting as a fluke and was determined Albus would be a Gryffindor; as would Lily, upon being sorted in two years time. Harry was just wondering what Ginny's expression would be like if she was wrong and Albus wasn't sorted into Gryffindor, when at that moment, out of the window, he saw the silvery-white glow of an incoming Patronus.

"It's here," Harry said quietly to Ginny, without looking at her. He instead watched as the Patronus Lion burst through the window and pounded around the room excitedly. Lily jumped up to her feet, giggling and laughing as the lion circled her.

Harry chuckled to himself and exchanged a mirrored glance with Ginny when the recognisable voice of his old friend, Neville Longbottom, came from the Patronus.

 _"Hi, Harry, Ginny. Hope you're doing well. You'll be pleased to hear Gryffindor has gained another Potter! Albus seemed pleased. No surprise there, though, eh? You know what was a surprise, though? Scorpius Malfoy becoming one of our newest Gryffindors. I bet Draco'll be pleased. We should meet up at the first Hogsmeade weekend. It'll be nice to catch up. All the best."_

The voice faded and with a small roar, the lion swirled into nothingness and vanished.

"I told you!" Ginny boasted, grinning knowingly at Harry. "Gryffindor til the end."

Harry smirked.

"All four of the houses are worthy of being sorted into, though," Harry added, with a meaningful glance at Lily.

"Of course," Ginny added, catching on.

Lily looked between the two of them and sighed.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to have a mental breakdown if I get sorted into a different house. I don't really mind which house I'm in, I just wanna go to Hogwarts!" she said, in a voice that sounded way too old for her age.

Harry smirked again.

"Well, I think it's time for bed anyway. Then you'll be one day closer to Hogwarts when you wake up."

Some time later, after Harry had tucked in Lily and headed back downstairs, Ginny had just brewed two cups of tea and sat down with Harry when there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it, it's probably Ron and Hermione," Ginny said and headed out of the sitting room.

She returned a minute later, after Harry heard the mumbled greetings in the hallway, with the bushy-haired Hermione and the slightly-thinned red hair of Ron bobbing in cheerfully. Harry got up to his feet and hugged them both.

"So," Harry said, separating from Hermione. "Rose?"

Hermione almost shook with glee.

"Gryffindor!" she squealed. "And Albus?"

"Same." Harry beamed.

"Oh, wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, smiling.

"As if there was any doubt," Ginny chimed in.

"Well, Lucy –" Ron started, but Ginny cut across him playfully.

"Fluke!"

"Did you hear about Malfoy's kid?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione, as Ginny used her wand to duplicate her and Harry's mugs of tea to give one each to Ron and Hermione.

"Did he get expelled already by any chance?" Ron asked hopefully, taking the tea from Ginny and sipping it.

"No. He was sorted into Gryffindor," Harry said.

Predictably, Ron coughed on the tea and put the mug down on the table, spilling it slightly.

"You what?" he asked, incredulously.

"I know. Funny, isn't it?" Harry said.

"Funny? Not sure how I feel about the spawn of Draco Malfoy being housemates with my kids," Ron said.

Hermione scowled.

"Ron, you know better than that. Don't judge him on the family's reputation," she scolded.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione. He's bound to be just as dodgy as his dad and grandad before him."

Hermione shook her head.

"Draco hasn't been _dodgy_ since the war. I think Harry would know if he was."

"I'm just saying, the apple doesn't usually fall far from the tree. Maybe I'll send Rose a letter telling her to be caref–"

"You'll do no such thing!" Hermione interrupted. "Let her decide for herself who her friends are."

Harry couldn't help but smile. For as long as he had known Ron and Hermione, they had argued as much as they had gotten along. Not seeing them as much – or on a daily basis, like in their school days – it didn't annoy him half as much as it used to. Today had been a welcome distraction from work and he was glad he had the weekend ahead of him before he returned to the stress on Monday. Almost as if he had read Harry's mind, Ron turned to him with an inquisitive look.

"How's the enquiry going? Any news on what's caused the Muggles to get so crazy?"

"Nothing new," Harry replied. "All we know is that after we subdue them, they have no idea how they got there or what they've done. Almost like they were possessed – but of course, I don't know any magic that allows for such a huge number of possessions at the same time. Anyway, how's George and the family?"

"You know George. Working on more products for the Express Delivery Service to Hogwarts students."

They laughed about George's latest inventions, including: a Hair-Growing Wolfdrop, which caused sudden and uncontrollable hair growth head to toe; and the Foreign Fudge, which allowed the user to temporarily speak any one of six languages, including Gobbledegook. Harry and Ron then had a short game of Wizard's Chess before Hermione informed them they'd been there an hour. She then _politely_ reminded them that they'd told Molly, who was babysitting Hugo, they'd be back within that time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, I expect, if you're not busy," Ron commented to Harry after bidding Ginny goodbye and heading for the door with Hermione.

"Sure, no prob–"

"Harry!" Ginny called from the other room, interrupting him.

Harry, Ron and Hermione ran back into the sitting room to see a silver-white lynx burst through the wall. It prowled around while the unmistakable voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt echoed around the room.

 _"More Muggle trouble. I'll be there momentarily. Be prepared."_

Harry exchanged glances with the other three.

"He sounds concerned," Ginny commented.

"It's always a hassle with Muggle trouble; memory charms on top of making sure no-one gets hurt," Harry muttered as he picked up his wand from the polished pine dining table.

Harry rushed into the hallway and lifted his cloak from the rack, fastening it as he re-entered the sitting room.

The faintest pop turned the attention of the four in the room to the sudden appearance of Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Bald, black and broad-shouldered, with teeth for earrings and a discreet grey-and-blue robe.

"Kingsley." Harry acknowledged him with a short nod.

"Hello everyone. We can't stay. Are you ready?" Kingsley asked Harry.

"As I'll ever be," Harry replied.

Harry started to grab Kingsley's arm for apparition, when Ron spoke up.

"Let me come with!" he said hastily.

Kingsley gave him a sympathetic look.

"Strictly Auror business I'm afraid, Ron," Kingsley replied. And with a motion to Harry, they apparated together into the darkness.

A moment of breathlessness later – an experience Harry was still not used to after twenty years – they arrived in a dark London street.

Up ahead, Harry could hear a commotion and saw smoke rising from behind a block of flats. As they walked briskly towards the chaos, Kingsley updated Harry.

"Reports of violence, fires, riots in the East End. No apparent cause. I've called in the other Aurors, because we've sensed magic being used here too."

"Magic? So there's wizards attacking people too?" Harry asked, now quickening his pace.

"Seems like it. Be on guard," Kingsley warned.

"Right," Harry said and broke into a jog. He took cover behind a parked Jeep as he turned into the street.

Utter mayhem lay before him. Harry saw a car on fire, burning out, with big black billowing smoke. He saw Muggles – like he had the last few occasions he'd been in a situation like this – with hazy, vacant looks on their faces as they smashed windows, tore poles down and threw rocks. Looking further back, he saw red streams of light erupting from the smoke and hitting people; along with an inexplicable, carrying whisper echoing over the chaos. Harry strained but couldn't decipher any words.

 _So there are wizards,_ he thought, and headed further forward into the street.

As the attackers advanced from the smoke of the fire, Harry was surprised to see them dressed like Muggles. Whoever they were, they had clearly made the effort to disguise themselves. Harry wordlessly deflected a few red streams that headed in his direction with ease.

These attackers were not very powerful.

Harry deflected a few more red streams, before pointing his wand at the first attacker that came clearly into view.

"Stupefy!" he shouted.

The Stunning Spell hit the attacker, and the man toppled back over the bonnet of a parked car with smashed windows.

That whisper carried still over the noise. It distracted Harry more than he cared to admit to himself.

A Stunning Spell missed Harry's head by inches as he spun on the spot, and shouted "Expelliarmus!"

The attacker's wand flew out of his hand and bounced towards Harry. Harry stared at the unarmed man; chubby, balding and wearing a _West Ham United_ football jersey. The man gazed back, looking confused and frowning. The wand on the ground resonated the same unintelligible whisper. It almost hummed through the air and towards Harry.

The chubby man looked around at the chaos, then at Harry and his wand, with a puzzled expression. Harry picked up the wand and pocketed it.

Another stream came flying towards Harry and he cast a Shield Charm to deflect it. The quick motion with his wand made the man recoil, suddenly terrified. Harry frowned, confused by the wizard's sudden repulsion to magic after losing his wand.

Harry saw Kingsley and Dawlish run past him, both sending Stunning Spells in the direction of more attackers.

Then a realisation hit Harry so hard he almost thought one of the Muggles had launched a rock at him.

"Kingsley!" Harry shouted.

Kingsley deflected a couple of red beams and turned to Harry.

"Don't attack them, they're Muggles!" Harry called.

"What? They have wands!" Kingsley argued back, sidestepping a Disarming Spell.

"Trust me! I don't know how they are doing it, but they aren't wizards!" Harry called back.

He wasn't sure how he knew with such certainty, but he did. He settled on it just being instinct and instead moved around, disarming Muggles, who usually stumbled around confused immediately after being disarmed – though one or two did try and attack Harry physically, to which Harry tied them up with conjured ropes.

Kingsley, Dawlish and a handful of other Aurors eventually copied Harry's tactics.

"Aguamenti!" Harry called, and a stream of water jetted out of his wand and began to douse the burning car into a smouldering pile of metal and charred smoke.

Some of the Muggles – those without wands – were still causing havoc. Two rocks narrowly missed Harry and he heard another car window smash someway up the road. With a sudden idea, Harry turned the jet of water from the car to the surrounding Muggles. The water seemed to stop them in their tracks, like they had woken from a trance, and soon, the streets were filled with confused and panicking Muggles.

"Looks like the worst is over," said the dark-haired and bearded Wilkins.

"Get everyone else to start with memory charms and get these people home," Harry told him, and Wilkins nodded and headed off.

Kingsley approached Harry with a sigh.

"I don't know what just happened, but I've never seen or heard anything like it before. Muggles using magic. It just doesn't make sense," Kingsley said.

"They were in a trance-like state, too; just like all the other Muggle riots lately. But now they have wands. Whoever is behind this is getting stronger. We need to find them. I'm going to patrol the area, see if I can find anyone hanging around."

Harry set off into the adjoining streets and alleys. Deep down, he knew that whoever was behind this would have apparated long ago amid the chaos, but Harry had to search anyway, just to put his mind at ease. He lit up dark alleys, running through, looking for any signs of wizards or magic where they shouldn't be. In one particular alley, he bumped into a young gang, who approached him, hollering aggressively. But a quick round of Confundus Charms and Harry telling them their shoes were untied was enough to distract them all as he hurried through.

Twenty minutes later, though, Harry was resigned to accept that the perpetrator was long gone, and apparated back to Kingsley.

"Nothing," Harry answered to Kingsley's unasked question as he approached. "Here's one of their wands I picked up."

"I have one. Take it, see what you can find out about it," Kingsley said.

Harry nodded and pocketed it again.

"Wilkins, Dawlish, King and Ahmed have it under control," Kingsley told him, motioning to the Aurors behind him who had rounded up most of the Muggles and Obliviated them. "You may as well head home. But I'll need you in the office first thing. We have a lot of work to do."

"Right. Take care, Kingsley."

With a concoction of disappointment, frustration and apprehension in the pit of his stomach, Harry spun on the spot and apparated with a _pop._


	2. Ron's Failure

**CHAPTER TWO**

 **RON'S FAILURE**

"Pass the potatoes, would you, Harry?" Teddy Lupin asked across the table in the dining room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Harry passed the bowl over to Teddy, who today was red-haired, slightly freckly and sporting a matching goatee. It was a look he often bore. Harry assumed it was a style he had picked up out of admiration for the Weasleys. Certainly, Teddy _admired_ Victoire very much and had grown up with much of the Weasley clan around him.

Teddy dumped four or five potatoes onto his plate and placed the bowl back on the table. Ginny, meanwhile, handed out goblets of pumpkin juice, then sat down next to her husband. Filling the table were Lily, Hugo and Ron, who sat on the opposite side of Hermione, Harry and Ginny.

"So how did it go at the office this morning?" Ginny asked Harry.

"Well, slow... we really have nothing to go on," Harry replied between mouthfuls of steak and kidney pie.

Harry had been at the Ministry at the break of dawn, and had spent the last six hours trying to find out as much as he could about the type of magic (and/or wand) that he'd confronted the night previous. Lily and Hugo were eating their potatoes and vegetables, talking quietly between themselves. Harry heard the words "seeker" and "Cannons" among their murmurs.

"So – you really think they were Muggles, then?" Teddy chimed in.

"They definitely were." Harry nodded, then added, "Whatever it was they were doing with the wands, I don't think it was coming from them."

"It's so odd," Hermione said, "I've never heard of any sort of magic that can empower Muggles."

"Well, if Hermione's never heard of it, you're definitely wrong, Harry," Ron teased.

Harry grinned; Hermione frowned.

"What time have you got to meet Mr Ollivander?" Ron asked, with a mouthful of Yorkshire Pudding.

"Three o'clock. Thanks again, Teddy, for making sure he was free on such short notice," Harry said.

Teddy shrugged.

"Didn't take much convincing. Old Ollivander loves you, doesn't he? Never stops harping on about the day you got your wand," remarked Teddy.

After leaving Hogwarts with nine NEWTs, Teddy had decided to pursue a career in wandmaking. Mr Ollivander had gladly accepted him as an apprentice, considering he was getting so old he sometimes struggled to maintain the workload on his own.

Harry glanced over at Lily to see the sprout on her fork turn into a meatball the second before she put it in her mouth.

"Lily, stop transfiguring your food," Harry said sternly.

Lily rolled her eyes.

"I can't help it, Dad. I haven't started Hogwarts yet, I'm not in _control_ of my magic."

"We both know that's a lie," Ginny intervened, "And don't talk back to your father like that."

Ginny's reprimand seemed to sink in, and Lily's newly transfigured meatball turned back into a sprout, much to Lily's displeasure.

"So, you think Ollivander will be able to tell you who's wand that is?" Ron asked.

"Well, the wands we picked up are just copies... but if Ollivander can tell us who has the original, we can finally find out who is behind all the Muggle unrest." Harry explained.

"I've got to head back to the shop this afternoon to help George with some stock – I'll come with you, shall I?" Ron asked, a little too innocently.

Harry nodded and stuffed a few sprouts in his mouth so he wouldn't have to comment further.

He had noticed it last night too: Ron's willingness to jump in and help, although he was no longer part of the Auror Department. Ron had helped him through the toughest times of his life, and Harry would like nothing more than to have his best friend at his side every day. However, he knew that Ministry regulations wouldn't allow non-employees on Auror work except for special circumstances. Harry decided he would go with Ron to Diagon Alley and hope he wouldn't have to tell Ron to leave before he got to Ollivanders.

A short while later, Harry excused himself from the table, waving his wand at his plate. It cleared itself as he did so, and once finished, Harry prepared to leave. When Ron was also ready, the two of them bid their goodbyes and set off for Diagon Alley.

Apparating a few yards away from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Ron turned to Harry.

"How about we meet up in the Leaky Cauldron later?" he suggested. "Once you've finished with Ollivander."

"Sure," Harry replied, "I have to meet Kingsley there later, anyway."

The door to the Weasley joke shop opened and a red-haired man (complete with bald spot) came strolling out backwards, mid-conversation.

"...And you can tell Roderick Hamperlump that I will not accept anything less than 2 sickles per Pygmy Puff, if he's buying in bulk. I'm running a joke shop by name, not by nature," George called in to an unseen person. Turning round, he spotted Harry and Ron.

"Ah... Won-Won," George beamed, "And Harry."

"Don't call me that," Ron growled.

"Come to help us with the stock too have you, Harry? Got twenty-five boxes of assorted jumping toadstools that need sorting."

Harry grinned.

"Not today, George. Auror Business." Harry said.

"Ah, say no more," George nodded, "Just let me know if Voldemort breaks out of his grave, won't you?"

Harry chuckled.

"Would I ever let you down?"

Harry turned his attention to the younger Weasley.

"So – Leaky Cauldron in about an hour, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Yeah –" Ron started, but George cut in.

"Make it two. We have a lot of work to do, little bro."

George went back into the shop without another word, having changed the poster in his window from " _Buy One Pygmy, Get One Free!"_ to " _Limited Stock! Get this season's Pygmy Puffs less than half price while you still can."_

Ron sighed, "Two hours, I guess, then."

And with a goodbye to Harry, he joined George inside the shop.

Harry continued on through Diagon Alley until he arrived at Mr Ollivander's. It was – and always had been – a dusty, cramped little shop, with gold lettering above the door reading, " _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."_

Harry was five minutes early of their scheduled meeting time, but with nothing better to do to kill the time, Harry opened the door and stepped into the shop. The chill from outside subsided immediately upon closing the door and Harry felt warmth spread through his fingers and toes. Looking around, Harry saw the ever-present crooked towers upon towers of wand boxes. The table where an empty chair lay behind was slightly dusty.

Then, without warning, Ollivander was suddenly there. He had come from the side of the shop and into Harry's view, seemingly out of nowhere, slightly discomforting Harry.

"Ah, Mr Potter."

Mr Ollivander smiled, his face more lined and ancient, his hair more white and wiry than it had ever been before.

"Hello, Mr Ollivander," Harry said, reaching over the table to shake his hand.

"Yes, yes... and how is young Albus getting used to his new wand?" Mr Ollivander asked, before adding: "Cherry; dragon heartstring; twelve inches, as far as I recall."

"Well, you know, Mr Ollivander – as Head Auror, I have to say he wasn't allowed to use it before starting Hogwarts," Harry said, then leaned in with a quieter tone: "But as a father, I allowed him to test it out a little and he was very comfortable with it."

Harry grinned and winked. Ollivander returned the grin.

"Wonderful, wonderful... but of course, I don't think you came here to discuss your children's wands," Ollivander mused.

There was an air of curiosity about him that Harry had always sensed and both liked and disliked. Harry had not told Ollivander _why_ he needed to see him and any possible wand mystery was something Ollivander positively thrived on.

"Well, no – I actually came because of Auror Business. You see, there's been some trouble lately with Muggles. Someone has been sending them off on a rage, starting riots, and the Muggles seem to have no recollection or understanding afterwards," Harry started.

"Interesting... but I fail to see how that is related to wandmaking?" Ollivander frowned.

"Well, you see – the Muggles had wands and were producing magic." Harry said.

Ollivander stared at him for a moment with a puzzled expression.

"Impossible," he muttered finally.

"I thought so too, until last night," Harry replied.

Harry slipped his hand into his robe pocket and pulled out the short wand he'd taken from one of the Muggles the night before. He slid it across the table to Ollivander.

"This wand – and many copies exactly like it – were what the Muggles used," Harry said.

Ollivander took the wand curiously and lifted it up and down in his hand, as if measuring its weight.

"That is no wand," Ollivander declared, shaking his head. "It has no core."

"No core?" Harry frowned. "But that makes no sense. They definitely used magic. I fought them!"

Ollivander studied the wand further, looking at it from all angles and at one point, bizarrely, balancing it on his head.

"Wood from the cashew tree; eight inches exactly. Very pliant, but certainly no core," Ollivander explained.

Harry tried to think about what this "wand" was and how it worked without a core. He had never heard of a wand without a core.

"I'm not sure what to make of that," Harry started. "But let's just say for the sake of argument that it did have a core – have you ever sold a wand anything close to this? We believe these so-called wands may be some sort of copy of an original. The owner of that original may be behind this whole thing."

Ollivander handed the wand back to Harry.

"I'm afraid I've never sold a wand like this," he asserted, sighing.

Harry pressed.

"You're quite sure, sir?"

Ollivander nodded curtly.

"Certainly," he said. "I have never made wands from this wood. It is from the cashew tree – a type of evergreen – and is quite an obscure tree choice for wandmaking."

Harry's shoulders sunk a little in disappointment. Desperate, he continued his questioning.

"Do you know any wandmakers who might have made a wand like this?" Harry asked.

Ollivander looked to be in deep thought for a moment before replying.

"I can't think of any wandmakers specifically, but if anyone has, the likelihood is that they'd be South American."

"South American?" Harry repeated.

"Indeed," affirmed Ollivander. "The cashew tree is common there. I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

Harry pocketed the wand.

"Nonsense, Mr Ollivander. You've been a great help," Harry lied and then – in an effort to make it sound more plausible – added: "You've at least told me where to look next. Thank you."

"Anytime, Mr Potter. Let me know what you find, if you think I may be able to help you further."

A little while later, after taking a stroll around Diagon Alley to gather his thoughts and quickly visiting Gringotts to withdraw some gold, Harry shuffled back to the Leaky Cauldron and approached the bar.

Seamus Finnigan – short, stocky, sandy-haired and with a large sandy beard to match – greeted him.

"Harry, me pal. How are ya?" Seamus asked cheerfully.

"I'm alright, thanks, Seamus. Business good?"

"Aye, about as good as I expected. How's the little ones?" Seamus asked, pouring Harry a Butterbeer.

"Just sent off Albus to Hogwarts yesterday. Gryffindor," Harry said with obvious pride.

Seamus grinned.

"Obviously."

Seamus considered this for a moment, then asked, "Did I hear right? Malfoy's kid a Gryffindor too?"

"You did," Harry confirmed.

Seamus's eyes widened; his grin grew wider.

"Blimey! Now I've heard it all, fella," declared Seamus, adding: "There ya go!" as he handed Harry his Butterbeer.

"Thanks," Harry replied, sliding three sickles across the bar before moving over to a corner booth to wait for Ron and Kingsley.

Harry was mid-way through his pint when Kingsley Shacklebolt came in through the door, looking a little flustered from a blustery wind that had picked up outside as evening approached. Behind him was a younger man: black and broad-shouldered, with fuzzy black hair; almost like a younger Kingsley who never went bald.

"Harry," Kingsley said with a nod, leaning over to shake his hand. "This is my nephew, Bokamoso. Boka, this is Harry Potter."

The young man leaned over and shook Harry's hand, too – somewhat shakily – and took a seat opposite him as Kingsley approached the bar to get drinks.

"It is an honour to meet you, Mr Potter," Bokamoso said courteously.

His voice was slightly higher than Kingsley's, but still carried a certain bass to it. Boka seemed excitable and outgoing. Harry imagined he was the type of person who always stood out in his social groups. It was slightly bizarre seeing someone who resembled Kingsley so much, yet lacked his calming aura.

"Nice to meet you, too." Harry replied politely.

A few seconds later, Kingsley returned to the table with three Butterbeers and sat down also.

"Hope you haven't been waiting too long. I had to deal with some paperwork. And of course, I had to meet Boka."

"Not at all; I only arrived about ten minutes ago, myself," Harry said. "So what brings you to London, Boka?"

"I'm hoping to get into the Auror Department," Boka said, somewhat sheepishly and all too aware that Harry himself was Head of the Department.

Harry noticed Boka's accent was somewhat thicker than Kingsley's, although he spoke English exceptionally well.

Harry raised his brow and glanced over at Kingsley.

"Is he any good?" he inquired, grinning.

Kingsley barked a short laugh.

"Well, he has a good work ethic," Kingsley said kindly.

"Got all your NEWTs?" Harry asked Boka.

"NEWTs?" Boka frowned, confused.

"Ah, you see, Harry," Kingsley interrupted, "Boka studied abroad. Uagadou School of Magic."

Harry remembered reading about Uagadou. It was an African school, located in the Mountains of the Moon, in western Uganda. It was known as the biggest wizarding school in the world, accepting students from all over the African continent. Photographs of the school that Harry had seen revealed a breathtaking edifice, carved out of the very mountain itself. Mist enshrouded the school often, giving it the illusion of floating in mid-air. Harry had always thought it would be an incredibly interesting place to visit.

"I see. So, you think you have what it takes to be part of the greatest Auror Department in the world?"

Boka nodded feverishly.

"Oh, yes! You know, with the correct training and such, I think I could be a great asset. My magic is wandless, and I can transform into a cheetah. I am also an accomplished transfigurer and alchemist."

Boka said all of this very quickly, with an attempted air of confidence; but Harry could sense the nerves in him. He was not surprised, considering how everyone seemed to think of Harry as some kind of living legend – even though he'd always tried to dissuade that notion.

"That's impressive," Harry said truthfully. He had never met anyone who could use magic without a wand, although he was aware that African magical culture had not taken to wands as widely as Britain.

"The school year ends in August in Uagadou. As soon as Boka finished school, he contacted me asking for a job. Of course, I don't intend to show favouritism. But since he's from a foreign school, it can be difficult to get your foot in the door, so I thought I'd bring Boka along today to meet you."

"Well, I'd be delighted to have you on board, if you are willing and able to learn." Harry nodded, "Kingsley's approval is as good as twenty NEWTs if you ask me."

Boka grinned.

Suddenly, through the doors of the Leaky Cauldron came a silver terrier. Harry recognised it as Ron's Patronus as it walked up to the booth.

 _"Sorry, Harry. Can't make it. Hermione has to go into the office, I have Hugo. Another time."_

"That's my fault," Kingsley said, apologetically, "I had to call in Hermione to deal with some of the paperwork – and the Prophet wants some information, so she'll be addressing that too. Joys of being Head of Magical Law Enforcement, eh?"

"I have heard many things about you and what you have achieved. Lord Voldemort is infamous, even in Uganda," Boka said to Harry suddenly, as the Patronus vanished.

"Well, that was a long time ago; and I had a lot of help," Harry replied modestly.

"But not just that – I've also read about how you, Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom were the three newest Auror recruits after the War. You helped round up the remaining Death Eaters," Boka said.

Kingsley turned to Harry.

"As you can tell, Boka admires what you've achieved very much."

"But, if you wouldn't mind indulging, how is it that you are the only one of the three still in the Department?" Boka asked, curiously.

Kingsley cleared his throat.

"Maybe that's a discussion for another time," he said awkwardly.

Harry shook off his worries with a wave of his hand.

"No, it's fine. I think Boka should probably hear. Being an Auror is no picnic," Harry said.

Harry turned to Boka.

"The three of us started in the Auror Department at the same time, as you know. It's true, we helped the Auror Department round up the Death Eaters during our Junior years. On the turn of the millenium, Professor Sprout, who had been Herbology teacher at Hogwarts for decades, announced her retirement. Neville, who had always been superb at Herbology, decided that he needed to try for his dream job, so he applied, got the job and resigned from the Auror Office. He's still Herbology teacher now. For a few years he was the landlord of this very pub with his wife Hannah Abbott, but they since sold up to Seamus there and moved to Godric's Hollow," Harry said.

Boka seemed thrilled to be hearing new details directly from the source.

"And Mr Weasley?" He asked, "I know he runs the joke shop down the road with his brother now... but I never did understand why he left the Auror office in the first place."

"Well, with Ron... it's slightly more complicated," Harry sighed.

Boka sat quietly and waited.

"Ron and I were doing well, I think. For years we both worked in the Auror Office and gradually worked our way up as two of the best Aurors in the Department. At that time, Gawain Robards was Head Auror. We knew he was going to retire soon and word had it that we were both the favourites to be chosen as his successor." Harry said, stopping only to sip his butterbeer.

"Then we met Brennan Greaves," Harry said grimly.

Kingsley looked grave. Boka turned his head, looking from one man to the other, frowning.

"I don't think I've heard the name," Boka said.

"I don't expect you have," Harry replied. "But he was a wizard and he was mentally ill. We never did really understand what was wrong with him. But in February of 2006, he took to the streets of London and started attacking Muggles."

Boka grimaced; Harry continued.

"Ron Weasley was the first Auror on the scene. He had received reports of a disturbance and sent a Patronus to the rest of us while he went ahead to investigate. Brennan Greaves was madly dangerous; there was no reasoning with him, he didn't even seem to be fully aware of his own destruction. Ron duelled him bravely, but Greaves was vicious..."

Harry paused to drink again. No-one spoke.

"He caught Ron off-guard with a curse and Ron was disarmed; it took Ron a few moments to retrieve his wand. As soon as he did, he jumped back up to his feet and deflected at least ten Killing Curses – meant to hit Muggles – with extraordinary Shield Charms. But there was one Killing Curse he was unable to block in time: it hit and killed a seven-year-old Muggle girl."

Boka gasped.

"It was truly a horrific tragedy," Kingsley chimed in. "And the worst part was, we had to erase the memories of her parents and explain to them, disguised as Muggle authorities, that their daughter had been killed by a crazy man who mowed down victims with a car."

"So, what happened after he killed the little girl?" Boka asked.

"I arrived at the scene..." Harry started, and for a moment, he remembered vividly Brennan Greaves: matted dark hair; bulging black eyes; and a sunken, hollow face – waving his wand around furiously. And Ron –face contorted in rage and tears – fighting back. In between them, the small body of a muggle girl, dressed for winter, lay unmoving.

Then, realising he'd trailed off, Harry snapped back into the room.

"I found Brennan Greaves duelling Ron. I jumped in. It was difficult to take him out because we were simultaneously trying to protect all the Muggles. He actually disarmed me when a young girl, his younger sister, came running into the street, screaming for him to stop. She seemed to get through to him. He fell to his knees, and the little girl ran at him.

"At the same time, a wizard who lived in the area, who had seen one of his Muggle friends attacked, sent a Stunning Spell at the distracted Brennan Greaves – but the spell hit his sister. This sent him into a further rampage and he very nearly killed the wizard citizen. I grabbed my wand in the distraction and hit Brennan with a stunning spell. He was knocked out and hit a nearby car. He fractured his skull and was killed instantly."

Harry looked up at Boka at this point. Boka's face showed many emotions: shock and disgust most prominently. Harry thought maybe he could see a little sadness and determination in there too.

"What about Greaves' little sister?" Boka asked.

"She wasn't badly hurt, not like the Muggle girl... that's why Ron left," Harry continued, "He blamed himself for the death of the Muggle girl. He couldn't deal with the guilt. It ... well, for a while, he wasn't the same Ron. He eventually went to work with his brother George at the joke shop. He's doing much better now. He has two children and is very happy."

"I am glad to hear it." Boka said, as Harry finished his story, "but that is truly a terrible thing to happen."

"Yes, it is," Harry said seriously, "And it could very well happen to you. Maybe on your first day, maybe after ten years, maybe multiple times. It's one of the hardest career paths you can choose."

Boka nodded.

"But extremely rewarding also. You stop people like Brennan Greaves. You make the country a safer place." Boka replied.

Harry nodded.

"I think you'll make a good trainee, at the very least. The rest of it.. we'll see."

"So, is that why you become Head Auror?" Boka asked.

"Partly." Harry replied, "But it didn't happen right away. After losing Ron on top of Neville, the Auror Department was short on numbers, so Robards stuck around for another year while we trained some new recruits. Then when Robards left, I got the promotion."

"The Auror Junior programme starts in January," Kingsley informed Boka.

"So, as of then, you'll report directly to Harry. Until then, I could probably get you in on the Ministry Duelling Club, as an Honourary Member. It won't compare to being out there in the real world, but it will be a good starting point."

"Fantastic. Thank you again, Mr Potter." Boka said.

Harry nodded with a smile. They continued to drink. His first impressions of Boka was while he had an air of naivety about him that came with youth, and he was a little excitable, Harry liked him very much. Harry explained to Kingsley Shacklebolt what he had been told by Mr Ollivander.

"Very interesting..." Kingsley commented when Harry had finished, "See if you can find any wandmakers that use that wood. South America... interesting..."

Kingsley didn't finish his thought out loud and instead excused himself to buy another round of Butterbeers.


	3. Dinner With The Scamanders

**CHAPTER THREE**

 **DINNER WITH THE SCAMANDERS**

October brought it's signature chill with it through the streets of London. The cold had begun to creep into the houses, so much so, that Harry went around Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place sealing all the doors to keep the draught out.

September had flown by for Harry; on three separate occasions, he had dealt with more Muggle trouble, again using copies of a mysterious wand to do what was thought to be impossible magic. The resulting Memory Charms, paperwork and research ate up most of his days, so that he barely had any time to spend with family. He knew that Ginny understood his position but that didn't make him feel any better about the situation.

However, since there had been no trouble for over a week, Harry was granted a rare day off. It was a Monday morning and Harry had arranged with Luna Lovegood, one of his oldest friends (but of course now she was Luna Scamander), to go over to hers for dinner with Ginny and Lily. None of the Potters were fans of Luna's cooking but they enjoyed her company immensely and in any case, Harry had a request to make of her that was related to the Auror Office investigations.

Harry heard rumblings from the upper floor as Ginny woke up Lily and got her ready for the day. He sipped his coffee (and he remained the only person living at Grimmauld Place who ever drank it) as he read the headlines on the Daily Prophet (that had come by owl minutes ago), settling by the fire in the sitting room.

With no recent criminal activity notable enough for the front page, instead it was dominated by Chudley Cannons seeker, and Harry's first girlfriend, Cho Chang, wearing bright orange robes, notable for the logo of two black C's and a cannonball, flying swiftly through the air. She had the look of a hardened veteran, still exceptionally pretty, but with the scars on her left cheek and right ear that suggested a long and gruelling Quidditch career.

 **CHO CHANG RE-SIGNS FOR ANOTHER YEAR**

 _Chudley Cannons and former England seeker, Cho Chang has re-signed with the Chudley Cannons for another year after weeks of rumours of her retirement, proving to all the doubters she's not ready to hang up her robes just yet._

 _Chang, 38, who fought at the Battle of Hogwarts nineteen years ago, has been seeker for the Cannons since 1998. She has been widely credited for turning a club past its glory days back to success, when in 2006, the Chudley Cannons won the League Cup for the 22_ _nd_ _time, but the first victory since 1892, ending a drought of 114 years without a trophy. Chang went on to captain the team through three more League Cup wins, in 2008, 2009 and 2015._

 _Her one regret possibly is the failed attempt at the 2010 Quidditch World Cup, when she was only able to take England (eligible to play for them because she was born in Scotland but to Chinese-English parents) to the semi-final as captain before they were knocked out in a tight affair versus Moldova. She has, however, remained faithful to the Cannons despite interest from her favourite club, the Tutshill Tornadoes, who have pipped the Cannons for the League Cup in the past two years._

 _Now, however, at thirty-eight years old, she becomes the oldest Chudley Cannons seeker of all time, and will continue on – for at least one more year – to solidify her legacy as one of the greatest English players of all time. She will lead the Cannons into their fifth game of the season against the Tornadoes on Saturday and a win of more than-(cont. Page 7)_

Harry rolled his eyes over to the rest of the page, looking for anything that might interest him. He saw a slim advertisement in the corner of the page for the new Firebolt.

 _The new Firebolt Storm model now available for pre-order. Top speed 199mph (at least!). See page 43._

Harry's eyes found the only part of the page he hadn't read yet, but seeing it was a _"tell-all interview with Kimberley Rinndox about her new album...",_ he quickly lost interest and folded the paper up, finishing his coffee, just as Ginny and Lily entered the room.

"Morning," Harry greeted them both.

Together they all moved to the dining room for breakfast.

Ginny kissed him on the lips as she passed and Lily ran up and jumped on his lap as he sat down at the dining table to give him a hug.

"Are you excited about seeing Aunt Luna later?" Harry asked Lily.

"Soo excited. I can't wait to see what creatures she and Uncle Rolfie found in Brazil!" Lily replied, jumping down from his lap and taking her place at the table as Ginny cooked some toast idly as she read the Prophet that Harry had put down.

"When will we be getting Kreacher back?" Lily asked, who had noticed Ginny doing the cooking too.

"Probably the same time as James and Albus, I expect," Harry said.

"But why does he have to stay at Hogwarts?" Lily asked.

"He doesn't _have_ to. He likes it. And if we ever need him for anything important, we can just call him," Harry smiled at her. "Don't worry. Kreacher will come visit you occasionally."

Lily brightened up a little as Ginny put a plateful of toast down in front of her. Lily was very fond of Kreacher, and he of her, which Harry always found amusing, based on how horrible Kreacher was when Harry first met him. Kreacher was almost like a third sibling to Lily, and Harry made a mental note to call Kreacher home for an hour later on that evening to spend some time with her.

After toast and pumpkin juice, Ginny allowed Lily to go up to her bedroom and play, but warned her they'd be leaving in half an hour. Harry settled on the sofa with his wife and she lounged, resting her head on his chest.

"When was the last time we got to just sit down together?" Ginny asked.

"Feels like forever, doesn't it?" Harry said.

"I sent back letters to James and Albus. I told them you send your love," Ginny said, looking up at Harry.

Harry felt a stab of guilt in his chest.

"I should have took time to reply to them. I'll do it later."

"It's done now," Ginny replied. "If you send a separate letter, it will just look odd. Besides, it's not like you're ignoring them, is it? You've been up to here with it at work- "

She lifted her arm up close to the top of her head.

" - and the boys get it."

"How is Albus coping?" Harry asked.

"Seems to be settling in well. He mentioned being friendly with Scorpius Malfoy and Rachel Thomas, you know, Dean's daughter. And of course he's got Rose too, they've always been close," Ginny replied.

"Well, if Albus is friendly with Scorpius, he must be somewhat less of a prat than Draco was at school," Harry grinned.

Harry and Ginny sat together for a little while longer, talking about all kinds of trivial things, something Harry had missed doing immensely with Ginny over the last couple of months, until eventually they decided they couldn't delay their departure any longer without keeping Luna waiting and called Lily from her room.

Harry had connected his fireplace to Luna's a couple of days in advance, so when everyone was ready to leave, Ginny grabbed some Floo Powder and dropped it into the fire, saying clearly, "Scamander Residence, Lanyon, Devon."

Harry stepped into the fire with Lily once Ginny had vanished in the green flames, and repeated the order.

Harry had only been to Luna's new residence once, and he remembered that Lanyon was a small wizarding town not too far from Ottery St. Catchpole. The house had been uncharacteristically empty then, because Luna and Rolf had only been living there a couple of days. Now however, Harry would be surprised if there was any part of the house he could describe as empty.

Harry stepped forward out of the flames with Lily and looked around at his new surroundings. The walls were bright purple and amber, and it took Harry a moment to adjust to the brightness of the colours. The room had a high ceiling, and the shelves, all almost too high to reach, were filled with a variety of miscellaneous animal artefacts from tusks, horns, teeth and towards the back of the room, a couple of skulls of some creatures Harry could not identify. There was a glass patio door to the side of Harry that led to a wide garden that was mostly obscured from view.

"Hello, Harry," Luna smiled.

Her dirty blond hair and her silvery eyes gave her the look of someone who could float into the air at any moment, and certainly the way she spoke only strengthened that illusion. Luna was wearing horseradish earrings and blue and silver robes, sporting the colours of her Hogwarts House, Ravenclaw.

"Luna," Harry replied warmly, with a smile and a hug, "It's nice to see you."

"Oh, and you too, Harry. I was just telling Ginny how I miss you both terribly. And everyone from Hogwarts really," Luna said.

"Well, that bodes well for me, doesn't it?" said a quiet voice from the doorway.

Rolf Scamander, who Harry had met a handful of times, and liked very much, was much more grounded than his wife, and often helped negate her social awkwardness. He had short brown hair which travelled down into sideburns and a full beard, and he wore yellow horn-rimmed glasses. Rolf came over and exchanged polite kisses with Ginny and then shook Harry's hand.

"Harry."

"Rolf. How are you?"

"Wonderful, thanks," Rolf grinned, "How are you two and the kids?"

"Grand," Harry replied, "Albus got into Gryffindor."

"How delightful," Rolf replied and handed Harry a bottle of Butterbeer, which Harry accepted gratefully.

"How are the twins?" Ginny asked Luna.

"They are great. Daddy has them until this evening. I love them dearly, but it is very nice to not have them here," Luna said, matter-of-factly.

"I know what you mean," Ginny smiled knowingly.

"Aunt Luna, can I see all your cool stuff?" Lily looked up, hopefully.

"Cool stuff, you say?" Luna replied, crouching down a little to meet better match Lily's height, "I think I might have some special pictures of some magical creatures I discovered in Brazil last year. Want to see?"

"Oh, yes!" Lily exclaimed loudly.

Luna took Lily out of the room and down the hallway, and Rolf sat down with Harry and Ginny. The sofa was long and square, with swirls and flowers seemingly randomly plastered on its design; with a range of bright colours from blue to orange to green. Harry knew by Ginny's initial reaction to noticing it was that she found it very gaudy; Harry found it hard to disagree.

Rolf noticed their glances lingering a little too long on the sofa.

"I would say you get used to it but frankly, you don't."

Harry and Ginny exchanged smirks.

"You'll be glad to know I talked her out of her usual cooking choices though. No Freshwater Plimpy Soup today," Rolf winked.

Harry chuckled.

"We're just grateful for your hospitality," Harry replied.

Luna and Lily returned with a seemingly handmade, thick, green scrapbook. Luna had carved ' _Brazil 2016'_ on the front cover.

As Luna sat down with Lily, she looked at Harry.

"I'm sure you'll appreciate this sofa, Harry," Luna said, unexpectedly.

"Me?" Harry half-laughed.

"Yes," Luna said, with not the hint of a laugh, "It's very popular among Muggles, so I'm sure you've sat on loads like this."

Harry could honestly say he had never sat on a sofa like this, not even at old Mrs Figg's house when she pretended to be his Muggle neighbour as a child. However, Harry politely nodded.

"Er – yeah, very stylish, Luna," Harry lied.

Luna beamed at him.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, then opened the book to show Lily the first pictures.

Harry exchanged a knowing glance with Rolf and Ginny, suppressing another chuckle.

Luna showed Lily more pictures of the creatures she had discovered last year in Brazil: namely the Xenophilius Sand-Sinking Toad, which has the ability to dissolve completely in sand and travel through it. Luna noted she named it after her father because _"it had Daddy's eyes"._ There was also the Flying Red Bow Spider, named so because it's red-wings resemble a tied bow in mid-flight and the Brazilian Sharp-Ridged Dragon, distinguishable by its barbed, razor-sharp blue scales.

"Oh!" Luna said suddenly, although in the same airy tone as she said everything else, "I haven't shown you the garden yet. Come with me."

Harry, Ginny, Lily and Rolf followed as Luna waved her wand and the patio door opened. While the chill in the air remained, the sky was clear and the sun was bright. As they turned the corner and got a full view of the garden, Harry was momentarily stunned by its beauty. There was so much going on, Harry didn't know where to start.

A paved path wound its way around patches of different flowers: magnificent white roses and tulips, humongous daffodils, almost sparkling purple petunias and a bunch of other odd flowers, miniture trees and fruit bushes that Harry didn't recognise. One of these unfamiliar flowers danced in the breeze, it's petals shimmering from red to green as it did so.

In the air, connected to the house, and all the way across the garden to a small shed down the way, were at least five clotheslines.

Harry frowned; they were not, like he naturally expected, lined with drying clothes, but rather a selection of random bits and pieces like buttons, pieces of wool and fur, small twigs, leaves and Harry was quite sure, some way down the line, the core of an apple.

Luna noticed Harry looking up at them.

"These are my nesting lines," Luna pointed up at them. "I got the idea from Muggle clotheslines; but I use them to give the birds bits and pieces for their winter nests."

As she explained this, Harry noticed a robin or two fluttering around, one of them grabbed a long, grey feather and flew off with it.

Harry looked down towards the bottom of the garden again. Adjacent to the shed was a sizeable pond, and Harry noticed a few minuscule fish jumping out of the water and splashing back in as they walked through.

"This is wonderful, Luna," Harry said, truthfully. "How do you manage to maintain it all so well?"

"Oh, I love doing it,"Luna replied, "Sometimes Lorcan and Lysander help me plant the seeds. We have all the ingredients for growing plants in the shed. Come and see."

They travelled down to the small shed at the bottom of the garden. Luna opened the creaking door and they all entered, one by one.

Harry should have expected it: the inside of the shed was much bigger than it looked on the outside. It was crammed on each side with a multitude of oddly-aligned shelves, each of the shelves carrying vials and jars, some carrying potions, others seeds or random ingredients. Harry felt quite nervous to move anywhere near the walls lest he knock down a myriad of assorted objects.

In the middle of the room, were several long troughs, filled with all different kinds of plants. Harry recognised one of them as the _Mimblenus Mimbletonia_.

"Don't touch that one," Harry warned Lily, pointing at the Mimblenus, "They make a mess if provoked."

Lily shuffled off through the rows of plants in awe.

Harry turned to Luna, who had found a plant with several budded heads and a bunch of wide purple leaves shooting either side of its thick stem. She bent over and tugged several leaves from the step and placing them in a small brown sack.

"These will go great with dinner," Luna said, patting her now closed sack.

"Great," Harry replied, not wholly convinced.

They headed back inside a few minutes later and Luna started dinner. Rolf would come in and out of the kitchen, Harry assumed to oversee Luna's recipe, but he would often be shooed out by Luna in a matter of moments.

About an hour later, after much more small talk and exploration of Luna and Rolf's assortment of interesting objects, there was a knock on the door that Rolf stood up to answer. Rolf ducked under the purple steam that had emanated from the kitchen (along with a strong smell Harry recognised as beef and gravy) and walked down the hallway and out of sight.

When Rolf returned, he came back with a little boy each side of him. Both of them had round faces and quiffed, brown hair that matched their father's. Lorcan and Lysander ran into the room once they saw Lily and the three children immediately huddled up around the rug to play.

"Xenophilius says hello," Rolf told Harry and Ginny, "He couldn't stay, apparently he had a potion brewing at home that was due a counter-clockwise stir."

Rolf turned on the spot.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Rolf told the kids, "so don't get yourselves too worked up."

"Where will be eating?" Harry asked, seeing only a small coffee table on the raised part of the living room and not remembering any door to a dining room in the hallway.

"Right there, of course," Rolf said, pointing at the coffee table.

Then, Rolf flicked his wand and the room magically extended, stretching the rug and the coffee table on top of it. Another flick of his wand, and the dining table grew taller, rising up a couple of feet, apart from the last section closest to Harry, which stayed small and broke off into a separate table. A third and final flick of Rolf's wand and a selection of chairs, three smaller ones for the children, appeared around the relevant tables.

"Neat," Harry commented, his eyebrows raised.

Luna popped her head in with Ginny (who had also gone back and forth to the kitchen but rather than to oversee Luna's cooking, Harry thought it was more likely she had used the time to gossip), calling, "Dinner's ready."

Ginny entered the living room and walked over to the transfigured dining table, placing cutlery on the conjured dinner mats. Harry and Rolf settled the kids at the smaller table as Luna came in and put their meals on the table.

"Aunt Luna, is this going to be nice?" Lily asked cautiously, "Because last time, that soup was yucky."

Harry groaned inwardly.

"Lily, don't be so rude," he scolded, but Luna just giggled.

"Oh, I think you'll like this one a bit better. Lorcan and Lysander will tell you how good it is."

To Harry's mild surprise, the children were nodding enthusiastically. Of course, they could have inherently received Luna's _odd_ tastes, he argued with himself.

After hovering in the adults' dishes too, Luna and Ginny sat down with their husbands.

Looking down at his plate, Harry saw what he recognised as roast beef, potatoes and some sort of vegetable, drizzled in brown gravy. He recognised the purple leaves Luna picked earlier, now shredded and seasoned across the dish.

Harry's first impression was that it _looked_ delicious, but he was nervous still when he grabbed a bit of meat with his fork and tasted it.

But it _was_ delicious. Harry smiled, somewhat out of relief, as he complimented Luna on her cooking. She looked pleased.

The children were occupied eating their dinner and talking about the twins' pet newt – who Harry heard they had also amusingly named Newt after their grandfather – giving Harry the opportunity he needed to discuss with Luna the favour he needed from her. Keen to not seem like he was _only_ there to ask her a favour, he skirted around the subject, asking Luna:

"So, Brazil last year. Do you have anything planned this year?"

Luna shrugged.

"Maybe. I have to admit every time I go abroad, it gets harder and harder. I miss Rolf and the kids terribly," Luna replied. "So maybe this year I will focus at home."

"Well, um – how would you like to make just one, small exception?" Harry asked.

Rolf caught his eye suspiciously. Harry had an idea Rolf knew what was coming.

"See – I'm in the middle of an investigation with the Auror Office. I need to go to South America and I was hoping you'd accompany me. The only connection to Brazil I have is that I accidentally released a Brazilian snake from a Muggle zoo when I was ten," Harry grinned. "As Head Auror, I can bring you along as a special asset to the office."

Luna looked curiously at Harry but Rolf frowned.

"Well – what kind of trip are we talking about here?" he asked.

Harry sensed the apprehension in his voice.

"It would just be to meet up with some wandmakers. Luna speaks fluent Portuguese and knows Brazil well, where both wandmakers are located. It would simply be a case of being my tour guide and translator."

"Surely, the Ministry has translators and guides?" Rolf asked somewhat sarcastically.

"Of course we do – but I don't know those workers, and I don't trust them like I do Luna. I like my circle in any investigation to be small and trustworthy," Harry replied.

Harry knew that Rolf wasn't happy with the idea of Luna going away on, although Rolf didn't say it, potentially dangerous work.

"It would only be for a day or two." Harry added, more so for Rolf's benefit than Luna's, who didn't seem to share the same worrisome expression Rolf had.

"I will have to see when I am available Harry, but of course I'd be happy to accompany you." Luna said, before turning to Rolf with a sympathetic glance, "You worry too much, Rolf."

Harry was relieved when the subject changed from his request to other more mundane topics. He ate the rest of his meal and chipped in on the conversation when necessary but for the most part he let them talk amongst themselves. Harry noticed Rolf glance over at him a few times, but he didn't say anything else about the trip to Brazil during dinner.

When they had finished dinner, the kids were allowed to go and play in the twins' bedroom (Rolf shouted up the stairs not to take Newt out of his tank) and the adults converted the table back to its previous form and collected on the sofa and chairs with more Butterbeer.

As the sky started to darken outside, Harry remembered that it would be handy to send a message to Kingsley about Luna's agreement to accompany him, so that he could get the paperwork ready for Harry to grant Luna temporary Ministry Official privileges for travel. Excusing himself, Harry exited to room and went out in the hallway so that he could better concentrate.

Once he was shrouded in the darkness of the hallway, Harry thought of the message he wanted to send.

 _"Good evening, Kingsley. Luna Scamander has agreed to accompany me to Brazil. Would appreciate if you granted her Ministry privileges for the trip. See you tomorrow, first thing. All the best. Expecto Patronum!"_

A silvery white orb shot out of Harry's wand and up through the ceiling. In the light of the orb, Harry saw that Rolf had appeared in the hallway and his sudden appearance startled Harry, who jumped.

"Sorry to startle you, Harry," Rolf said in a hushed tone, "but I wondered if we could have a word."

"Of course," Harry nodded and the two of them stepped into the kitchen. Rolf closed the door behind him and flicked his wand to light up the candles.

"What do you need, Rolf?" Harry asked, although he had a feeling he knew exactly why Rolf had pulled him aside.

"I know you and Luna are old friends, and that she trusts you and vice versa, but I have to ask you to be honest with me – how dangerous is this trip, really?" Rolf asked.

He spoke quickly and quietly. Harry assumed he did not want Luna to know that they were having this conversation. Harry replied with in a similar manner.

"We'll be going to Brazil to speak to some wandmakers. See if they can identify a wand used in some criminal activity involving Muggles. We may even only be there a day if we are able to find both wandmakers without much delay... but I don't think Luna or I are in any danger, no more than any other trip to Brazil. "

Rolf lingered for a moment, then nodded.

"Alright, alright," Rolf muttered, "I shouldn't be sticking my nose in really, Luna wouldn't appreciate it."

"Mate, I don't think there's anything wrong with worrying about your wife. If it were Ginny, I'd do exactly the same – and she'd be just as displeased with my interfering," Harry grinned.

Harry, Ginny and Lily made their way home, back through the fireplace, at around seven o'clock. Lily stifled a yawn as they re-entered the living room of Grimmauld Place.

Harry called out into the air, "Kreacher!"

There was a sudden loud _crack_ as Kreacher apparated directly in front of them. He bowed deeply before he spoke.

"You called, Master Harry?" he croaked.

Lily ran over and hugged the house-elf, who was only slightly shorter than her.

"Kreacher!" she cried, happily.

"It's bed time, Lily – so Kreacher here will take you upstairs and read you a story, before he heads back to Hogwarts, if you want?" Harry asked her.

Lily nodded with a wide smile.

"Oh, yes!" she said.

Harry headed over to his daughter. She hugged him at the waist and he kissed her forehead.

"I love you Lily."

"Love you too, Daddy," Lily replied and then ran over to hug Ginny.

Once she had bid goodnight to both her parents, she turned to Kreacher, grabbing his hand.

"Come on, Kreacher! I want to know what happened to the _Wise Witch of Western Whitlock_."

"Very well, Miss Lily," Kreacher replied and the two disappeared up the stairs.

Ginny embraced Harry as they sat down together on the sofa.

"So, did you and Luna end up deciding on when you were going to Brazil?" Ginny asked.

Luna had looked through her schedule before Harry had left and told him when she would be free.

"We leave on Saturday," Harry informed Ginny, "hopefully, we'll be back on the same day."

Harry heard some rain hitting the window as he stroked Ginny's hair. It seemed to be growing heavier.

"I have to cover the Cannons-Tornadoes game that day. I'll ask Mum if she can look after Lily," Ginny replied.

"Sorry, Ginny. I should have remembered - "

Ginny looked up at him.

"Don't worry about it. The quicker you go to Brazil, the quicker you find out who's behind all this. Once that's settled, you can put an end to it and go back to a normal work schedule and then we can spend more _quality_ time together." Ginny grinned.

"I like the sound of that," Harry chuckled.

The hammering of the rain grew steadily heavier against the windows of Grimmauld Place. It seemed to hypnotise Harry and within minutes he had nodded off with Ginny cuddled up to him. Ginny's warmth and the comfort of the sofa were enough to convince him never to move from that spot again. The only problem was that incessant _knocking_ sound. What was making that unbearably annoying noise?

Harry suddenly realised he was awake and opened his eyes. He had drooled slightly on his chin and wiped it off hastily as he sat up, position Ginny in the place he was just laying. There was a tapping coming from his curtained living room window that Harry recognised as the arrival of an owl. He made to approach the window, when a louder, sudden banging came from the front door.

Harry frowned.

"Ginny," he said, shaking her awake, "Someone's at the door and there's an owl at the window. Go see to the owl, I'll go to the door."

Ginny sat up as Harry made for his front door. He glanced at his watch to see it was five past nine. He never usually got guests this late unless it was a Ministry matter, and they always sent a Patronus ahead. Harry reached the front door and looked through the peep-hole.

The man was bulky and overweight, with thinning blond hair and an unreasonable lack of neck. The rain was hammering down, and he was drenched from head to toe. Harry opened the door with an overwhelming sense of confusion.

"Dudley? I wasn't expecting – Hi," Harry said awkwardly.

"Hullo, Harry," Dudley muttered.

His face looked contorted, hardened.

"Is ... is everything alright?" Harry asked.

Dudley looked down at the ground.

"Mum died."


	4. A Broken Umbrella To Brazil

**CHAPTER FOUR**  
 **A BROKEN UMBRELLA TO BRAZIL**

Harry heard what Dudley had said, and understood it perfectly, but found himself unable to respond immediately. He just stared at Dudley, the shocking revelation hanging in the air.

The rain continued to hammer down on Dudley's head.

Then, suddenly breaking out of whatever bubble he was in, Harry spoke again.

"Come inside, Dudley."

Harry stepped back and opened the door. Dudley looked up and stared at Harry for a moment, then shrugged and entered the house. Harry closed the door behind him. The rain hammered down relentlessly but it still didn't drown out the awkward silence that reverberated through the house as Harry motioned Dudley into the living room.

Ginny, who had her back turned to Harry and Dudley, reading a letter, muttered over to him.

"It's from Hagrid. He wants to know if you want a quick catch up tonight over a nightcap -"

Ginny had turned to Harry and seen their unexpected guest.

"Oh – Dudley. What a surprise," Ginny said, trying to sound pleased.

"Hullo, Ginny." Dudley replied, without looking directly at her.

"Um... Gin, could you tell Hagrid I'll be a little while," Harry said.

Suddenly, he was extremely conscious of what he was saying. He wanted to tell Ginny what he had just been told, but he didn't know how it would come out, and he didn't want to upset Dudley further.

"Er – we've had some bad news. Aunt Petunia, she uh – she passed away," Harry mumbled.

"Oh." Ginny replied, unsure what to say.

Ginny met his eyes and Harry tried to tell her without words that it would be best if she left him and Dudley alone. Ginny grabbed the letter and a quill and headed out of the room and upstairs.

Harry opened up a cabinet and pulled out two glasses as well as his half-empty bottle of Firewhisky. He motioned for Dudley to sit down on the sofa and placed the two glasses on the coffee table, pouring out a measure for each of them.

Harry slid Dudley's glass across to him; Dudley stared at it apprehensively.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just – trust me, you need it." Harry muttered, then decided he should add, "to Petunia."

Harry downed his drink in one; Dudley said nothing but followed suit.

Harry poured another measure each.

"So, er – when... when did it happen?" Harry asked.

Dudley lifted his second measure and sipped.

"This morning. She'd been ill. Cancer," Dudley said.

"I'm sorry, Dud," Harry replied.

"She didn't tell anyone. Too proud, always had been. I'd noticed she was looking a bit unwell, bit tired. But she told me she just had a cold. Dad hasn't taken it well." Dudley continued.

Harry tried not to think of Vernon Dursley grieving; he wanted no reason to feel sorry for him.

"I spoke to the doctor. He said she came to him two months ago and he told her after some tests that she was teminal. And last night she – she just went." Dudley finished.

The deafening silence returned tenfold, brokn only when the owl near the window shuffled its wings. Dudley noticed it and recoiled slightly.

"Don't worry. It's just waiting for a reply off Ginny." Harry told him.

"Well, anyway – I thought, well – Dad's never going to come and tell you. I thought someone had to," Dudley said.

Harry didn't know what to say. He wasn't even sure how he felt. All he knew was Petunia Dursley was dead and he couldn't figure out much more depth in his thoughts beyond that at the moment.

"She wrote a will, since she knew she was ill," Dudley continued, sipping more Firewhisky,"and she named you in it. Part of the reason I'm here."

Harry almost coughed on his Firewhisky.

"She named me?" Harry repeated.

"Yeah, look," Dudley said, and he from his pocket a crammed plastic carrier bag.

He handed it to Harry and Harry stuck his hand in, pulling out first a sealed letter and then a sky-blue baby blanket with HP engraved into the corner of it.

"She kept that blanket. It's from when you came to us, I think," Dudley explained, "and that letter is addressed to you, and included in her will, but I don't know anything else about it."

Harry was stunned.

He had never expected Petunia to even mention his existence in her will, let alone return an object she had kept for over thirty years and a letter directly to him.

"Uh... right, well – thanks," Harry muttered awkwardly and put the blanket and the letter back into the bag.

Dudley finished off his second measure and put the glass back down on the table.

"That's a great drink," Dudley commented.

Harry couldn't help but grin a little: the idea of Dudley, or any of the Dursleys, approving of anything remotely magical was still amusing to him even after all these years.

"Sure is," Harry agreed, "So, what are you doing for the funeral?"

Harry knew that Dudley worked in security and wasn't well paid.

"I've got a bit saved up. We'll give her the best we can afford." Dudley shrugged, and helped himself to a third measure of Firewhisky.

"Listen," Harry said, "send me the bill."

"What?"

"Send me the bill for the funeral. Don't worry about the cost. It's not an issue." Harry explained.

"I – I can manage it you know. Plus, Dad won't have that," Dudley replied, shaking his head.

"So don't tell him," Harry said, "Listen, I'm not going to pretend I was close to your mother. But she was family and she did keep a roof over my head for sixteen years. Send me the bill, tell Vernon you won on a scratchcard or something."

Dudley stared at Harry for a moment, then nodded.

"Thanks, Harry," he said solemnly.

After finishing his third and fourth measure of Firewhisky, Dudley announced his leave, hiccouping a little. Harry saw him out as Ginny came back down the stairs.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Dudley," she said.

Dudley nodded.

"Thanks, Ginny. Take care."

Dudley shook Harry's hand and then walked out back into the rain without another word and turned around the corner and out of view. Harry closed the door and turned to Ginny.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him.

Harry shrugged.

"I'm not really sure, yet," Harry said, "Did you reply to Hagrid?"

Ginny nodded.

"I told him you'd be an hour or so."

They both re-entered the sitting room and Harry pulled the letter from Petunia out of the bag Dudley gave him.

"My Aunt Petunia left me this letter in her will. And that blanket. The one I arrived in when I was a baby," Harry told Ginny.

She looked over to the blanket and then to the letter.

"What did she keep a letter to you for?" Ginny asked, curiously.

"Only one way to find out," Harry shrugged and sat down, unsealing the envelope and pulling out a folded piece of white paper. The writing was small and cramped.

Harry,

I have tried to write this letter many times. I write it with the intention to never receive a reply. I am ashamed of this. I regret that my jealousy of my sister and the world in which you both grew up in has hardened me. It has made me angry and bitter; and now I'm an old woman, I recognise these things too late.

I cannot correct a lifetime of bitterness. Nor do I think I want to. I have lived relatively happily, with a husband I love and a son I adore. I was lucky enough to have grandchildren. The last time I saw you, the day we left Privet Drive, I almost brought myself to wish you luck in your quest ahead. I couldn't do it.

But it is your success regardless that brought peace to my family ever since. We no longer had to worry about dark wizards and unwanted guests.

For that, I thank you.

I do not think we will see eachother again and when you read this I will already be gone.

I know you and Dudley have an amicable relationship and I am grateful for that. I'm sure he will be the one who tells you of my passing. I don't expect the news to devastate you; nor would I want it to. However, the one thing I always knew about you, even if I never wanted to admit it, was that you were a kind and caring boy. I hope you use those traits to help Dudley. He will struggle with my passing.

I hope to see Lily wherever I am going.

This is my attempt at closure, I hope it provides you as much as it does me.

I'm sorry.

Good luck,

Petunia.

Harry passed the letter to Ginny; he wasn't sure how he felt. On one hand, the Dursleys had been the only family members he had left and he had grown up disliking them. He had only bothered with Dudley on a limited basis in the past twenty years and he hadn't seen Petunia or Vernon at all since.

Yet, Aunt Petunia was dead, and she had taken the time to send him this last message, against all her instincts and she had, Harry was amazed to see, actually apologised. He couldn't help but feel a little sadness that she was gone.

It felt weird; like he had forgotten who he was. He certainly wasn't going to miss his Aunt or his Uncle, who he also never expected to see again, just like he hadn't for the past twenty years and still he couldn't say that Petunia's death hadn't affected him.

Harry looked up at Ginny as she finished the letter.

"What do you think?" he asked her.

"It's... it is what it is. An attempt to find closure," Ginny said, "All that's important though is what you think."

Harry shrugged.

"I feel sorry for Dudley and would you believe it, I actually feel sorry for Uncle Vernon too."

"Well, you're a caring person Harry. That's why I love you." Ginny replied.

Harry smiled.

Ginny sat up, grabbing a broken purple umbrella from behind the door.

"Listen, why don't you go see Hagrid? He's clearly missing you and he usually cheers you up." she said, handing him the umbrella.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I think I'll do that. I won't be long, OK?"

Harry got up and kissed Ginny on the forehead, then placed the umbrella on the coffee table and pointed his wand at it.

"Portus!"

The umbrella started to glow blue-white and Harry placed his hand on it.

"I'll see you later, Gin."

One... two... three...

The portkey flashed and Harry was pulled backwards by an invisible hook around the navel. Grimmauld Place and Ginny's freckled-face disappeared and was suddenly replaced by the familiar, circular hut, chuffing smoke out of its chimney.

Harry knocked the door three times.

For a moment, like he always did when he knocked Hagrid's door, he expected to be greeted with the booming barks of Fang, but then he remembered that Fang had died some years ago. Nevertheless, there was some movement inside the hut and eventually it opened.

Rubeus Hagrid, aged and greyed, but still spectacularly large in all contexts of the word, popped his head out of the door, his black beetle eyes focusing on Harry.

"'Harry!" Hagrid cried. "Nice to see yeh, come in, come in..."

Harry stepped into the hut as Hagrid stepped aside. It looked exactly as it did the last time Harry had seen it, small, cramped and very warm with the fire burning in the corner.

"Sit down, sit down... so how are yeh, Harry?" Hagrid asked, beaming.

Harry tried to smile as he sat down but ended up with an expression that was more of a grimace.

"Er – I'm not quite sure how I am, Hagrid. See, I just got news that my Aunt Petunia died," Harry explained.

Hagrid's smile faltered.

"I'm sorry ter hear that, Harry."

"It's so weird," Harry continued, "I hated the Dursleys. Dudley has become somewhat tolerable lately but I haven't even see my Aunt and Uncle for twenty years... but now, I can't help but feel sad for the fact she's gone... and then I feel stupid for feeling sad for someone I never liked."

"She was family, Harry." Hagrid replied. "You can't choose 'em. But that's still what they are. And yer gonna be affected by it, obviously. Tell yeh what, I got a bottle o' Swott Malt Whiskey for us to crack open. Strong, highland stuff."

Hagrid pulled out a small, square bottle and cranked it open, pouring two measures into mugs.

Harry sipped his drink and immediately felt a strong numbing sensation flush through his body. Harry felt his eyes watering suddenly and wiped them with his robe sleeve.

"Told yeh it was strong," Hagrid chuckled. "So, how's that Muggle investigation going?"

"Heard about that, did you?" Harry replied.

Hagrid shuffled some things on his wooden table and pulled from the rubble a copy of the Evening Prophet.

"Hermione talked about it earlier," Hagrid said, passing Harry the paper.

Harry skimmed the article; Hermione confirmed that the Auror Department had been dealing with some breaches of the International Statute of Secrecy, being sure to reassure the public that the Auror Department are following up on leads and are looking to solve the case as soon as possible.

"Yeah – well, it had to be addressed. People were starting to talk," Harry said. "Actually, since I'm here, you visit Knockturn Alley on a regular basis, right?"

Hagrid nodded during a sip of his whiskey.

"Well, have you heard anyone talking about this stuff?" Harry asked.

"Yeah – everyone's talkin' in Knockturn Alley. Yeh know the sort that usually go there. They like gossiping abou' all tha'. I don' have any information that will help yeh, though, Harry. Most o' what I hear is just people wonderin' who's behind it all." Hagrid said.

Harry scoffed.

"They aren't the only ones. I'm heading to Brazil in a few days to follow up on a lead. I hope it proves fruitful because I don't have much to go on here."

Hagrid grinned.

"I know yeh'll figure it out, Harry," Hagrid said. "Everytime someone asks me, I tell 'em, there ain' no-one better for Head Auror than Harry Potter."

Harry matched his grin.

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, "so have James and Albus been around?"

Hagrid nodded.

"Was 'ere just two days ago, actually. Albus is settling well, seems like. James has started Care of Magical Creatures with me now, he is one o' the bes' in the class, try to stay later everytime, they know what you used ter be like. 'Course, without the cloak, they can't sneak 'round like you used ter."

Harry grinned again.

"James begged me to let him take it to Hogwarts in his first year. I might have let him if it wasn't so useful for Auror work."

After another half an hour, and another measure of whiskey, Harry was feeling positively drunk. He told Hagrid that he would have to head home, because Ginny would be waiting for him. Hagrid convinced him to have one more quick drink for the road and Harry re-set his Portkey, the unpleasant feeling of travelling this method only doubled by his cloudy head.

Grimmauld Place was silent and dark when he put the broken umbrella away. Harry sighed. He felt like today, despite being his day off, had been one of the busiest days he'd had in ages. Exhaustion washed over him as he staggered up the stairs to his bedroom on the second floor.

Harry eventually found himself next to Ginny in bed, who embraced him sleepily as he settled and within moments Harry himself had drifted off to sleep.

Saturday rolled around in a blur and before Harry knew it, it was time to go to Brazil with Luna. Harry had gotten Ministry approval for the International Portkey the night before set to leave at midday and the Portkey was sat on his coffee table with ten minutes to spare.

He mentally ran through all of his possessions one more time to make sure he was adequately prepared. He had his Invisibility Cloak in his robe pocket, his mokeskin pouch around his neck, carrying the fake Cashew wand, emergency vials of Pepper-Up Potion (which was to be on an Auror's person at all times), an old Sneakoscope, and his small two way mirror, repaired and restored after the War, to which Ginny had the other. He didn't think he would need all these precautions for a short trip, but felt better with them in his possession regardless.

Luna Scamander turned up at Grimmauld Place with minutes to spare. She asked Harry what the plan was and he relayed it once again.

Encantadore was their destination; a wizarding town not far from Sao Paulo. Luna knew the town well. They would travel to the outskirts of the town to meet the first wandmaker, Lucas Eduardo, who according to Harry's research, had sold Cashew wands, and if need be, they would travel twenty miles southwest to Esper, to meet the second wandmaker, Ivor Wright.

After saying goodbye to Ginny and Lily, both Harry and Luna touched the broken umbrella and were hooked into the Portkey's tunnel. Harry noticed that the travel took a little longer than usual and he was starting to wonder just how long this uncomfortable tug would continue to nauseate him when they finally and suddenly stopped, on a dusty hill a mile or so from the outline of a small town, the intense heat from the cloudless morning sun above beating down on them. Harry regained his composer and dusted off his robes.

"That was horrid," Harry commented.

"Did you think so?" Luna asked, lightly. "I quite enjoy the rush."

Harry grinned, "Of course you do."

Luna dug into her small purple bag and pulled out a pair of glasses. They were shaded, horn-rimmed and shocking pink and she put them on with an excited smile.

"I designed these shades myself. I have a pair in apple green if you're interested," Luna told Harry.

"I'm fine, thanks," Harry responded politely, and tapped his own glasses, "Umbrefy."

Harry watched through his glasses as the lenses got darker and protected his eyes from the sun. He would have to recast the spell several times, but it was better than being seen wearing one of Luna's... unique pair of sunglasses.

After ten minutes of walking towards the town, Harry could already tell the weather was not going to be kind to them. The air was quite humid and sticky, each breath feeling only half-full, and Harry had to remind himself that it was October and if he was here in July it would be even more unbearable.

"Have you met the wandmakers in this area before?" Harry asked Luna as they travelled along the path.

"No, I've never had any need to. I wasn't even sure there was a wandmaker in this area. I know about Ivor Wright's shop in Esper but I've never visited," Luna explained, unhelpfully.

"Well, I really hope one of them is able to tell me about this wand," Harry said, motioning towards his mokeskin pouch, "We've really struggled to find out any useful information since all the trouble started."

The path opened up into a wider berth, with palm trees surrounding a tall, brick wall and gate. The gate was ornate and golden, with Encantadore wired into the design.

As they entered through the gate, Harry felt something swiftly travel through his body and knew he had passed through the Muggle Repelling Charms that had been placed over the town.

Encantadore was a lovely sight. More palm trees, fountains and benches were placed all around the park ahead of them, and beyond that, multicoloured, flat-topped houses stacked up in rows climbing a steadily inclining hill. Trees obscured the view of what was beyond the hill above.

"It's lovely here," Harry said to Luna.

"Yes, it is quite beautiful," Luna smiled in return, "Where did you say the wandmakers is?"

Harry thought about it.

"The outskirts of the town – past the town centre, not far from the temple."

"Oh, wonderful," Luna gleamed, "We'll have to travel to the other side of the town. I can show you the temple. It's truly magnificent."

Harry politely nodded; he didn't really want to stay here longer than neccesary.

"Sure, we can pop in."

As they walked through the park at the entrance of the town, Harry saw a myriad of people moving around. One man, standing underneath the shade of a palm tree, was singing in Portugese, an upbeat, catchy song with a flute, guitar and a small drum playing magically around him. His voice echoed through the park, and a few bystanders danced idly as they stood or walked by.

Some kids were hovering a few feet in the air, whizzing around on broomsticks in a nearby patch of green, playing a sport Harry was not familiar with; they were holding nets in their hands and seemed to be chasing small leather green balls the size of tennis balls.

Over by the fountain, a bearded old wizard flicked a coin into it, mumbling some sort of prayer under his breath. As he did this, he would rise and fall a few inches, up and down, in some sort of steady rhythm.

Harry and Luna travelled through the park and up the hill, the odd person here or there flying down the hill on a broomstick, sometimes with bags in their hands or on the tail of a broom.

When they finally arrived at the top of the hill, they moved past more trees, where the hill descended down with more rows of houses and a town centre bustling with people. Harry saw market stalls, rows of shops, some small farms, a small lake hidden behind more trees and sticking out in the distance, ahead of the town centre, Harry saw the tip of a towering, stone temple.

The temple became shrouded in greenery again as Harry descended to the town centre, and Harry could see it was some distance from the centre, with a forest-like path leading the way.

The town centre was packed. Harry and Luna could barely move a couple of steps without someone bustling past assuring several market traders in broken Portugese that he wasn't looking to buy anything, Harry irritably broke through the market square and to the entrance of the forest path with Luna.

"The temple is through here, the wandmakers should be nearby."

Together, they travelled through the path covered on both sides with a plethora of palm trees and shrubbery, and a sandy path trailing through. Harry was grateful for the cover of the trees as they passed through, protecting them from the throbbing sun which was steadily rising in the air.

"I want to go to the wandmakers first, get those out of the way, then we can check out the temple," Harry said.

"It'll be fascinating," Luna replied, "I actually donated a scale of the Brazilian Sharp-Ridged Dragon to the temple."

"What do they do in the temple?" Harry asked.

"They have a lot of interesting artefacts and information about their history. A kind of museum. They also teach magic there to children," Luna replied.

"It's a magic school?" Harry asked, who's only knowledge of a wizarding school in Brazil was Castelobruxo, which was miles away.

"Not really a magic school," said Luna. "But not everyone is able to go to Castelobruxo, especially the poorer people here. It's a free alternative, right at home. Some parents prefer to educate their children at the temple instead. I think part of it is that the school is in the middle of the rainforest. I think it scares some people."

Harry imagined a great, strutted castle, entangled in great vines and trees in the depths of the Amazon.

The sun blazed back in their faces as they exited the forested path and the great stone temple came into view. It was triangular for the most part, with a long spiked tower sticking out from the top. The sun gleamed off its black surface, giving it an aura of blinding awe as they approached.

They walked past the temple and around some rocky terrain behind it. They continued on through some more paths shrouded in trees and finally climbed another small hill to arrive at an open area surrounded by trees in a half circle and tucked in the corner, between two particularly large palm trees, a small wooden hut, with a veranda and some small wooden steps.

"This must be it," Harry said.

They walked across the half-circle of green and arrived outside the hut. An old, rickety sign stood ten feet or so in front of the house, with weeds growing all around it.

 _Loja de varinhas de Eduardo_

"Eduardo's wand shop," Luna translated.

"Well, let's go see if he's home," Harry replied.

They walked up the wooden steps. The knocker was shaped like a flaming serpent. Harry grabbed it and rapped three times on the door. After a few moments of nothing, Harry decided to try again and knocked a second time. The silence continued. He was about to try knocking a third and final time, when he heard shuffling behind the door, some grunts, and then the door swung open.

The man standing before Harry was very red and very shabby. He was wearing a frown that seemed fixed on his face and had a thin, grey toothbrush moustache. He wore thin, lime green robes. The lines on his face became more prominent when he spoke with a scowl.

"O que você quer?" He said briskly.

Harry tried to give the man a friendly smile.

"Hello, Mr Eduardo, my name is Mr Potter, I wanted to ask you a few questions if you don't mind."

"No English," Mr Eduardo muttered.

Harry turned to Luna.

"Ola, Senhor Eduardo," Luna spoke politely, "Gostaríamos de fazer algumas perguntas, por favor?"

The man looked even more annoyed at the fact that Luna spoke Portuguese. He scowled and mumbled something and then slammed the door shut.

Harry frowned and turned to Luna.

"What did he say?" Harry asked.

"He said that he didn't have time to answer our silly questions and that he's busy," Luna explained, then added, "and he was quite rude about it."

"Well, that went well," Harry said, sarcastically, "Tell you what, we should go see the other wandmaker, see if he's any less hassle to talk to – and we'll try this guy again on our way back."

Luna nodded, "I can assist you if you want to apparate there. I've been there many times."

Harry sighed in relief; he had never apparated in another country before, and even though he knew it shouldn't really make a difference, the idea unnerved him anyway. Knowing that Luna could assist him rested his nerves at the prospect a little.

"Sure, let's go."

They stepped out from the entrance of the hut into the half-circle again. Luna held out her arm and Harry gripped it and then, they turned on the spot, and the world enveloped around them. After a moment of discomfort, Harry found his footing in new surroundings. They were on the path to Esper, which was visible a few hundred yards down the hill.

It was much smaller than Encantadore; it lacked the town centre, the market stalls and the lake. Instead, there were a few rows of cramped houses and buildings, evenly spread along the flat surface. Harry could see some farmland in the distance but otherwise that was about the scope of the whole town.

"You know where Ivor Wright's shop is, right?" Harry asked as they entered the town.

"Yes, it's just down here," Luna replied, taking the lead as they walked through the third row of houses and buildings.

Eventually, they arrived at the building Luna was looking for. It was at the end of a lane, standing slightly taller than most of the other shops surrounding. It was painted regal blue, and the sign was the opposite of Eduardo's, sparkling clean and well-maintained.

 _Wright Wandmakers_

 _Fabricante de varinha_

 _Established 1977_

This shop, also unlike Eduardo's, had windows, and Harry looked inside to see shelves of boxes before opening the door and stepping inside, Luna closing the door behind her. Immediately, Harry felt relief from the cool air contrasting the warmth outside. He remembered amusingly the exact opposite effect when he entered Ollivander's last, with the Autumn winds of London.

The shelves were, much like Ollivanders, stacked with boxes of different wands, however this shop looked distinctly cleaner and more organised. There was a steel spiral staircase behind the counter that led to an upper floor. The room was empty but there was a bell on the tall, brown counter.

Harry rung the bell.

Almost immediately, a pair of legs in sandals came down the stairs, followed by their owner. He was a short wizard, wearing blue Muggle shorts and a plain white shirt. His white hair stuck out slightly at the sides and he bore a great walrus moustache.

"Ola, ola." He greeted Harry and Luna.

Harry stepped forward.

"Hello, are you Mr Wright?" Harry asked.

The man nodded.

"The very same. And you are...?"

The man extended his arm. Harry leaned forward to shake it.

"Hello, I'm -" Harry started, but the man gasped and finished for him.

"Harry Potter!"

"Er – yes," Harry replied, lamely.

The man grinned widely, shaking Harry's hand enthusiastically before letting go.

"It's truly an honour to meet you, Mr Potter. Who is your acquaintance?" Mr Wright asked, turning to Luna.

"Luna Scamander, nice to meet you." Luna said, with an airy wave to Mr Wright.

Mr Wright raised his brows.

"The very same Luna Scamander that discovered the Brazilian Sharp-Ridged Dragon last year?"

Luna grinned sheepishly.

"Oh, you know who I am. That's funny."

Mr Wright looked temporarily perplexed by this odd response, but ploughed on regardless.

"Well, well, I must say this is a great surprise; what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from a renowned Magizoologist and the man who conquered Lord Voldemort?"

"We're here on Auror Business. There's an ongoing investigation. We need to know," Harry said, pulling out the Cashew wand from his mokeskin pouch and handing it to Wright, "if you have ever sold a wand like this to anyone?"

Mr Wright took the wand curiously and investigated it for a few moments.

Then, he frowned.

"But this wand has no core." He said.

Harry shook his head.

"No, it doesn't – but we have reason to believe it's a copy of the original wand. Cashew wood, eight inches, and it likely would have been a British witch or wizard."

Mr Wright investigated the wand a little further. He tapped it with his own wand, and looked down the thick end as if he could see through it.

"I used to make wands of Cashew; but it's a very difficult wood to make wands from. I haven't made a Cashew wand for over forty years – and no-one has come asking me to make one either – so I'm not sure what to tell you. Cashew has grown out of fashion. There's only one wandmaker I know in Brazil who even still uses it, Lucas Eduardo, in Encantadore – have you spoken to him?"

"We tried," Harry said, "he wasn't very welcoming, though. When I realised he didn't speak English, I thought Luna could help, but he slammed the door in our faces."

Mr Wright chuckled.

"If he doesn't speak English, then I'm not a wandmaker," Mr Wright said, "Although, I will admit he's a miserable sod if you've ever met one. A friendly piece of advice: Mr Eduardo's tongue becomes much looser with a little... compensation."

Harry understood at once and grinned back.

"Thanks," Harry replied, "One more thing, wands made from the Cashew tree – is there anything special about them? No wandmakers in Britain use it, but whoever is causing trouble for us has this type of wand. Is there any reason someone would want a Cashew wand specifically?"

Mr Wright considered the question for a moment, stroking his moustache idly.

"Cashew wands are very particular. No-one is quite sure what traits the wand seeks, which is part of the reason why it went out of fashion. It doesn't work well with many people. However, if the Cashew wand does find a partner, it can help channel the holder's powers significantly... of course, the same is true for any wood that connects with you," Mr Wright explained.

Harry sighed, hanging his head slightly.

"Although..." Mr Wright started speaking again, and Harry looked back up, "It is worth noting that some people sometimes have come in... though this hasn't happened in years... asking me to replicate a wand of some historical figure. A lot of historically-notable wizards in Brazil used Cashew wands. People like Boto, an ancient dark wizard who could transform into a dolphin and lure his victims to the sea, or Guiomar the Bloody, who ruled over an ancient Brazilian magical empire for seventy years, Dabria, who was known as 'The Iron Angel' or Otavio, who once uprooted an acre of the Amazon rainforest in one swift motion, all of these legendary figures all used wands of Cashew – it's possible someone would want to recreate one of their wands."

Something stirred inside Harry; this may have been a long shot, but what Mr Wright was saying seemed to make sense and Harry felt, at the very least, it would be worth researching a little about these legendary figures and revisiting Mr Eduardo with more information than they had only an hour ago.

"That's interesting," Harry replied, "Thank you, Mr Wright, for all your help."

"Any time, Mr Potter, Mrs Scamander." Mr Wright shook both their hands again.

After leaving Ivor Wright's wandshop, Harry decided that they would visit the temple before they revisited Mr Wright had told Harry about legendary wizards using Cashew wands was stuck in his mind and he thought the temple would be a good place to read up on these legendary figures to see if he could find some vague connection between what was happening in the investigation and what happened in Brazilian history.

They apparated to the entrance of the temple and entered through the black wooden door, which was surrounded by four Goblin guards. The inside of the temple was cool and calm. There was a small desk near the entrance and beyond were many different exhibits, behind glass cases in some cases.

Luna spoke to the employee at the desk and came back to Harry.

"We're free to explore this floor and examine what we like... but the upper floors are off limits. I think they teach up there. There's a lot of magnificent things down here though. Take a look at this..." Luna explained.

Luna showed Harry around, showing off the blue scaled of the Sharp-Ridged Dragon she had discovered, now on display with credit to her for the discovery. There were also some an assortment of random ornaments and artefacts, with a variety of fabled powers, which were protected by not only glass but magical enchantments preventing anyone from touching it. There were ancient war helmets and several golden challices that apparently belonged to Guiomar the Bloody and a recreation of Otavio's wand on display.

Mr Wright had of course been correct: it was made of Cashew wood, but it was at least twelve inches long and had a twisted, knobbly design. If someone was attempting to copy Otavio's wand with the wand Harry had in his pouch, they did a poor job.

Harry moved along and came across the effigy of an ancient witch called Dabria. She had a long face, with extremely short hair. Her nose bulged and her face bore a haughty expression.

"Can you translate this, Luna?" Harry asked, pointing at a small scripture below the effigy of the ancient witch.

Luna looked over and read out aloud.

"Dabria (1453 - 1572), the Iron Angel. Ancient records indicate she was one of the most powerful witches of her time, specialising in her own unique branch of magic, derived from Vida Da Alma, recorded in her personal Grimoire, and since lost to history."

Harry listened eagerly. When Luna stopped, he said, "What else?"

"That's all it says," Luna replied.

Harry looked up at Dabria's was a thick, leather-bound spellbook, which Harry understood to be some sort of recreation of Dabria's fabled Grimoire, and then, to the right of that, was a short wand., displayed on an encased shelf.

Harry's heart skipped; he groped at his mokeskin pouch and pulled out the Cashew wand.

"Luna, look," Harry said and compared the two wands.

They were both very straight wands; the colour and length of the wands seemed to match almost exactly.

"Do you think it's her wand that your wand is a copy of?" Luna asked.

"Maybe," Harry muttered, and noticed a small passage underneath the wand.

"Can you translate that for me, please?" he asked Luna.

Luna read aloud again.

"Dabria's wand was believed to be made of wood from the Cashew tree, eight inches and very flexible. Many historians theorise she used the feather of the Thunderbird as the wand core."

"That matches!" Harry said, allowing his excitement to escape him for a moment.

He turned to Luna.

"If the person who owns this wand," Harry said, motioning to the Cashew wand, "recreated Dabria's wand, they'd have a Thunderbird feather core. Let's go back to Eduardo's and see if he remembers making a wand like that specifically."

The trip back to Mr Eduardo's seemed to take no time at all as Harry was buzzing on the new information he had learned. Surely, after all this, he would have a good lead to take home.


End file.
